Hold

When the hallways start to consume,
the days start to blur,
test after test: not being able to tell which one was when,
the little things build up.
You don't realise your emotions blaring in the background,
all you see is a book,
another hurtful glance in a nook.
Those looks and the crooks behind em,
can listen to the tapping of my shoes,
because no longer will they be my truth.